I don't mind a Papa
by HiAjay
Summary: Stiles is single- every single mom knows him and his bundle of joy. Then a stranger moves in next door and Stiles finds it strange that his bundle of joy seems fond of the new comer. And the new comer seems fond of Stiles. What's a single, dorky, ADD enhanced, rambling Dad to do?
1. Chapter 1

"Then Death said to Life," He looked down at the toddler tucked away quietly "You are the beautiful lie, and I'm the ugly truth," He rubbed his thumb over the small child's forehead and smiled softly.

"Why is Death Ugly?" the boy asked; his eyes fluttering.

"Death isn't ugly Jethro, He's just—misunderstood," He kissed the boy's head and turned off his lamp. The boy's breaths' were shallow and consistent, his eyes shut.

He took one last look at the small body in front of him then stood up carefully and quietly. He reached for the door handle—

"Stiles?" the boy called "Daddy?"

"Yes, Jethro?"

"I wuv you," the boys' words ran in his ears; no matter how many times he's heard Jethro say he loves him, it's never easy, it's like a huge punch in the heart. His voice was caught in his throat for a moment. "I love you too, bud," He smiled over his shoulder and then walked out. He heard the sigh in relief from the boy as Stiles made sure there was a creak so the hall light could beam through.

Stiles headed down his, what seemed to be too long of a hallway; pictures of him, Jethro, and many other children looked after.

Jethro—Jethro was different. Stiles found Jethro three years ago, when he was just a helpless baby. Stiles took to raising him differently then he other children he fostered. Jethro called him Daddy, while the other's called him by his name or '_Papa_'. Stiles hasn't had recent foster children in his home, so it was Jethro and himself.

Stiles took a step into his kitchen before freezing in his tracks. Stiles remembers the first night he met Jethro.

- _"Oh my god," Stiles reached down into an old worn out cardboard box, "Who would dare leave you out here, in this weather," It was snowing in Beacon Hills, it was a big surprises and Stiles simply adore snow. Jethro was lucky Stiles was on a walk that very afternoon._

_Stiles stared down at the sleeping bundle in his arms. Baby blue blankets that were now tangled within his arms; The baby wore a poke-a-dotted baby blue and white hat. "You must be a baby boy," Stiles swayed gently, he feared that the cold had already taken he baby._

_But the sweet child let out a yelp, or a hiccup, "There you are," Stiles cooed the baby quietly. Stiles looked around the area, just an alley way by Dr. Deaton's office. He wasn't in today, otherwise he would have seen who ever left the child. The baby let out a whine then began to cry, Stiles rocked him in his arms holding him closer to his body._

_"It's okay, you're safe now," Stiles hoisted the child up to his lips and gently placed a kiss on the crying child's forehead._

~ Stiles was sitting on a stool in his kitchen. He remembers all the paper work and the doctor appointments. For the first few days Stiles didn't want the child out of his sight, let alone out of his arms. Because that's where Jethro spent his first few months; Stiles went from twenty-one year old foster dad, to twenty-one year old dad.

It was worth it. The three years since Jethro's arrival; Stiles' life has been nothing but happy. He seems to forget what it was life without him; he finds himself wondering how he'd managed to actually live without Jethro in his life. The boy _is_ his life.

Stiles ran his hands over his face "Let's call it a night," He said to himself. He headed off to his bedroom just down the hall from Jethro's room. He was glad his Dad helped him find a place where his shower was separate from the rest of the house; Jethro liked to walk in unannounced. Stiles didn't mind, not until he needed his own private time; he wasn't ready to give that talk. Not to his three year old son.

Stiles was also grateful that Jethro wasn't that much different in appearance. The boy never asked question about why he didn't look like Stiles, or why they were different.

But then again, Jethro was different.

Stiles took a long shower, longer then his usual ten minute showers. He was tired, Stiles didn't even understand why. He didn't do much, but work on his novel and keep an eye on Jethro. Stiles sometimes wishes Jethro wasn't so quite; the boy isn't a troublemaker, but is rebellious. When Stiles was in the living room on his main computer, his son asked him a particular question.

"Daddy," He looked back at his father, who sat still for a moment then turned to face him

"Yes?" He smiled with a raised eyebrow

"How come I don't have a mommy?" Stiles felt his breath catch in his throat as he remembered the words. Stiles didn't have the heart to tell his three year old the right answer, nor did he want to lie to him. So he told him the next best thing.

"That's because I have someone special in mind," But his son just rolled his eyes, "But you don't like ladies, Daddy,"

Witty, his son was witty. He was only _THREE_. But he was right, Stiles partners were far from female, but that didn't mean he couldn't provide for his son. Stiles smiled at his son, the boy sat in the middle of the living room floor, his legs apart as he horded little soldiers and dinosaurs. Stiles wasn't expecting what came out of the boys mouth.

"I don't mind a Papa,"


	2. Chapter 2

After Stiles shower he lazily pulled his underwear on and hen his very loose plaid PJ pants; and a long sleeve Hanley. Stiles sighed as he headed out of his bathroom and jumped into bed. I wasn't long until Stiles eyes shut closed and he found sleep. His sleeping has become increasingly valuable and precious. When Jethro was just a baby, he'd cry when Stiles set him in the crib, he'd always cry for every little noise he heard.

Expect when Stiles was the one making the noise.

- _"Hush, Jethro, Daddy's here," Stiles said as he reached into the fluffed out crib. It's the last time he lets his father and Melissa shop for him. Though Stiles was glad that Melissa was the one that bought all the clothes and diaper bags, when his father was involves, well the man as lost as to what he needed to buy._

_Stiles rocked Jethro in his arms; falling asleep to the sound of Jethro's mumbles. When Jethro was asleep, Stiles placed a kiss on the boy's head and set him quickly in his crib. Soon after he was in the kitchen calling his father—_

_"Stiles?" His Dad's voice was soothing with a slight hitch in concern._

_"Hey Dad, what are you up too?"_

_"It's almost 2:30 in the morning, Stiles."_

_"Oh, I wasn't really paying attention, I was just rocking Jethro—Dad, I don't know why he's so attached? He's quiet, but he cried when a branch hits his window, or he cries when the dog walks past his bedroom door for water, Dad-"_

_"Stiles, he's different, you saved his life. He probably knows it," His father's voice is gruff but very calm and relaxed. He lets out a sigh, "Yeah, Thanks Dad," Stiles smiled sheepishly. His father chuckles._

_"He's a beautiful healthy boy, Stiles. You're parenting is fine." His father paused, thinking about his next words. "You're mother would've been proud, She would've loved Jethro,"_

_Stiles felt his chest tighten, but not in the 'I'm about to have a panic attack,' it as a warm tightening. The thought of his mother's smile as she held Jethro; Yeah, that's was something Stiles wish he could've seen. "Thanks dad," they shared a good-by e and Stiles was off to sleep._

~ "Daddy," A soft voice came to Stiles' ears, he grumbled and turned to his side, "Daddy, there's noses outside" a small hand touches he's cheek, "Daddy," the word was dragged out in a whine. Stiles opened his eyes lazily, he sees his son right in front of him; Jethro's thin eyebrows knitted together, his pale skin was slightly flushed like he was crying. Stiles sat up as quickly as he could and scooped his son n his arms. "What's wrong, Bud?"

"The noses outside, it's loud," His child held his bear in his arms as he covered his ears. "Noses? Jethro, you mean noises?"

"Yes, Daddy, the noses," Stiles didn't want to laugh at his son's words. Stiles just smiled and hugged him. "Let's go see what's going on," Stiles sets Jethro down and walking out of his room. His son followed righ behind him.

When Stiles made it to his front door, he hears yelling; but he couldn't hear it before. "Stay inside, okay," Stiles pats his son's head and heads out. When he looked over across the yard, there was a Uhaul parked in front of the vacant house and two very attractive people yelling with their arms in the air.

Stiles didn't like it, no one bit, especially if it made his son cry. He waltz over to the arguing couple.

"Uh, hey, guys." Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, Pj's were the worst to were when wanting to be serious. The two looked over at him almost like he was the reason they were fighting. When Stiles took a good look at the man, his breath was hitched. The man was are beyond attractive, his eyes are a beautiful hazel eyes; his face was twisted in a scowl.

"Er, hi. I'm sorry I've disturbed your fighting, but your yelling is-"

"Bothering you?" he woman asked, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms. "Uh, no. I have a son with really sensitive ears, and I'd really like it if you didn't yell," Stiles gestured out to both of them. Stiles didn't care if they were damn right beautiful people. Especially that guy; Damn him and his perfect cheek bones, even his hair, dark and seems to be soft and—

No, no. Stiles wasn't checking him out.

"You have a son?" The woman asked. Stiles looked her warily.

"Yes," He answered

"Aww, I'm really sorry, I was just arguing with my baby brother," Her frown was a smile before Stiles could blink. She held out her hand "I'm Laura," Stiles shook her hand and smiled. "Stiles," He nodded.

They stood quietly for a moment, "Well, uh, thanks for the understanding and nice meeting you. And, Er, welcome to the neighborhood," Stiles waved as he walked back to his home. Before he was out of ear shot she said, "He's cute"

Stiles smiled and walked back to his home. As he walked in, Jethro was sitting on the living room couch coiled around his teddy bear. "How's the little man?" Stiles held his elbows and smiled down at his son. "They were loud, Daddy," he spoke into the bear.

"Well, I got them to stop," The boy looked up at Stiles and smiled. "Breakfast?" He asked. Jethro giggled, the sound woke stiles up completely; Jethro ran to the kitchen with his bear in hand and jumped up to his booster chair.


	3. Chapter 3

Breakfast at the house of Stilinski is like—breakfast at an open buffet. Even if it was just for two "_Scabrous_" Stiles said as he placed a second pancake on Jethro's plate. The young boy took a fork-full and chomped down.

"Havin' diff- difftiles," Jethro's voice was strained as he tried to speak with a mouthful of pancakes. "Difficulties," Stiles laughed as he sat on the opposite side of his child. "You're doing better," Stiles smiles and reaches across the table to wipe the crumbs off Jethro's chin. The young boy beams and smiles widely.

"I did awesome!" Jethro raises his hands up above his head, Stiles throws his head back in a laugh. Jethro was always energetic, especially during and after breakfast. 'Awesome,' happened to be Jethro's favorite word, though he likes words in general, Stiles was glad the his son was a lot like him. Jethro finished his pancakes he looked at the chair next to him and smiles at his bear.

"Finished, Daddy," he doesn't look at Stiles, he tries to hop off his chair when Stiles makes a 'tsk' noise. His son looks over his shoulder and looks back down. Jethro had a habit of ignoring his milk. So Stiles would have to watch over him to make sure he drank it. Jethro turned back in his chair.

"Don't give me that look," Stiles playfully wiggled his finger, "You've spent too much time with uncle Scott," Stiles was surprised that Scott could even teach that puppy look. It seemed like it was only a trait that he could work with. Well, Stiles was wrong, because here he was with his son giving him the worlds cutest puppy look. Jethro finally smiled at Stiles and reached for his glass.

"Daddy,"

"Yes?"

"Someone at door," Jethro took a hug gulp of his milk "There's no o-"

Stiles was stopped by the sound of someone knocking on his front door. Stiles eyes widened and he looked puzzled at his son. "Yes there is," He set his empty cup down, exposing his face, along with a wonderfully worn milk mustache. Stiles laughed and stood up. "Okay, you can go play."

Knock after loud knock. Jethro began to cove his ears; Stiles swung the door open "I swear you keep knocking like that I'll-"

"Yeah, yeah Stilinski," Erica pushed him aside, "Jer, my favorite cousin!" She beamed happily as she made her way to the living room. "Ewica!" Jethro squealed; Erica was a high school friend, the meet in a drama class neither of them actually had. Erica was Jethro's favorite—as to why that is, Stiles will never know.

He's asked Jethro several times since he was able to talk. But all he answers is "Cause she's weally pwetty,"

When it was his second birthday, Stiles found out why Erica was his favorite. She sang to him, sweet and soft melodies of life and it's dangers. Morbid, right? Jethro read books, novels almost, about that kind of thing. Stiles thought it was rather comical, that this boy almost parished in the hands of destine, until Stiles came along.

"Fate," Stiles whispered as he watched the boy play with plastic toy soldiers with Erica on the living room floor. Erica looked up at him and smiled; it was bittersweet. Erica was the closest thing Jethro had as a mother, well besides Allison. But he didn't seem to cling to her like he did with Erica.

"You both are rebels, you know that," Stiles laughed as he headed into the kitchen, "Noo Daddy," Jethro laughed. "You hear that Jethro, that means you're my partner in crime," She laughed with him. Stiles rolled his eyes as he cleared the plates and placed them in the sink along with the glasses he and his boy used.

"What devil or demon do I have to pay for your visit?" Stiles said

"Oh shut it, you like it when I visit," She gave Stiles a toothy grin. She leaned next to Stiles as he put the pans and such in the dishwasher. "Those don't go there?" Erica looked curiously at him.

"Storage," Stiles laughed, "So what's going on?" He asked as he closed the dishwasher and stood up straight. Erica huffed out and leaned back to see the shelves that held the cups. She reached for one "Drink me," her red lips corked up in a smile.

Stiles rolled his eyes and pulled his liquor from the top of the fridge. He poured some water and whiskey in the glass. "You know me too well," she humored as he handed her the glass. Erica's face squished as she took a gulp of it. Then released the tension with an alcoholic's sigh; she looked at Stiles.

"What if he wasn't human?"

"What?" Stiles looks pointedly at her, She nods over towards the small boy that continues to play with his toy soldiers. "What if he wasn't human,"

"My whiskey isn't that strong," he laughed

"Stiles, this kid is different," She took another sip, "He's hearing, his sense of smell, and the way he can tell what you're feeling by the beat of your heart."

Erica had a point. But she was in his house, pointing fingers and assuming things of his child. "Erica, he's just different," Erica gave him a look and sighed. Erica shook her head and looked down at her drink.

"A friend of mine moved into this neighborhood, I came to visit and whatever," She seemed frustrated and contemplative, "I thought I'd visit little Jer," she smiled.

"Daddy, Ewica," Erica and stiles tore their eyes from each other and looked at the small child in front of them. He held his teddy bear by its hand, causing it to drag along the floor. He held out his hand up towards Stiles.

"What is it, Bud?"Stiles takes the child's hand and is tugged to the living room. "Lance-lot wants to watch a mobie," he says as he let's go of his dad's hand and climbs his way up the couch. Stiles laughs as he nods, Erica is standing behind him smiling, "what movie do you want to see?"

"Pretty woman,"

Erica raises an eyebrow, and Stiles gives her a look that seems like he'd explain it later. Stiles agrees to put the movie on as long as he promised not to try what the movie insisted. Jethro loved older movies, eighties and nineties movies. He seemed fascinated with them. Stiles got the movie in and play it for him. Stiles pushed Erica back into the kitchen.

"Pretty woman?" She raised her eyebrow again

"Yes, I don't know why and I didn't ask."

"Well that proves that he is your kid," she laughed. The leaned against the small island that shaped his kitchen and watched Jethro talk to Lance-lot about the movie. "So a friend?" Stiles nudged his elbow on her arm.

"Yeah, he moved back here from New York,"

"Ew, a Yoker," Stiles laughed, Erica smiled down at her drink "You won't say that when I try and set you too up,"

"And you'd do that why?" Stiles looked at her with raised eyebrows. She just shook her head and finished her drink. She patted his back and walked to his son. Erica whispered her goodbye's on Jethro's head with a kiss and waved bye to Stiles.

No answer, hmm? Stiles thought. But he wouldn't let his mind ponder it. Erica was strange in her own way. Stiles took a seat next to his child and draped his arm over the back of the couch. Jethro cuddled closer to his father and sighed in happiness. They didn't make it past the opera house scene when they were both asleep.

- _"Son," His father touched his shoulder, "You'll do fine, He'll grow up just fine," Stiles dad gently squeezed his shoulder. Stiles looked down at the small body in his arms. Alone and no one to love him properly. They stood in Stiles empty living room, his new home; Their new home._

_Stiles was worried he'd never be a good father, Jethro's crying was constant a few days after they'd moved in. He'd have moms, single mother's at his doorstep __when Jethro had a fit. They ask if there was anything they could do, or they had a few tricks to have to boy sleeping soundly._

_In reality, Stiles wanted to ask for help. But his pride interfered and he'd turn them all down nicely. Stiles hardly got any sleep and was frustrated by the time Jethro was only 5 months old._

_One night Stiles gave in and called one of the mothers, "Hey, hi . .Uh, I just wanted to ask . . .if—well you know, um"_

_"I'll be right over," The woman answered. And she was moments later._

_"Thank you," Stiles opened the door, she smiled at him and reached out her arms for Jethro. Stiles never handed the boy over to anyone, he didn't feel comfortable with it. "Uh, sorry, but I'm a little protective—I haven't really let him out of my sight or out of my arms," Stiles confessed sheepishly. The woman's arms slowly comforted her sides. Her smile was softer then before._

~ Stiles was woken up to his son's hands on his face. "Daddy, it's 2:30 you need to wake up,"

"Oh, okay," Stiles grumbles as he kissed his son's nose. His boy laughed and rubbed his long sleeves along his nose. "Wiping my kisses away?" Stiles raised an eyebrow and smiled, "Then you need more kisses,"

"Nooo Daddy!" Jethro's laugh filled the quiet house. Stiles wrapped his son in his arms and peppered his face in kisses, making animal lie grumbles as he playfully kissed Jethro's face. Jethro laughed and laughed, pushing his dad's face away with his little hands. Effort is what counted right?

"Daddy!" Jethro giggled breathlessly. Stiles stopped and smiled down at his son, "You've been in your PJ's all day," Stiles looked as bemused son.

"You has too," Jethro pokes his index finger on the bridge of Stiles' nose.

"I'm your dad, I'm allowed too,"

"No Daddy, you has to change like Jer," Jethro pointed at himself, proud that he knows the rules. He changes clothes like his father does, "Because what are we?"

"Buddies!" Jethro throw his arms around Stiles neck and snuggled tightly. Stiles laughed and held his son as he stood up and went to their bedrooms to change.


	4. Chapter 4

Jethro came out of his bedroom dress in his favorite lazy slacks and a graphic tee. He ran down he hallway to his dad's room and opened the door.

"Daddy, paint?" Jethro peaked through the opened door. Stiles was folding his clothes and set it on his bed. Stiles smiled down at his child and nodded. Jethro gave a gleeful sound and ran downstairs; he gathered his finger-paints from his play room and headed out towards the kitchen's sliding glass door.

The backyard was the best place for Jethro's painting, not just because Stiles didn't want Jethro to paint all along his walls. Their backyard was wide and vast with soft grass to lay on, to play on. The only issue now, was the new neighbor.

Stiles' backyard connected to his neighbor's, no fence to sepreate them.

So intentionally, Jethro played in both yards. Stiles had forgotten to tell Jethro he couldn't do that anymore, beacause new neighbor and all.

Stiles finished putting his clothes on and putting his PJ's else were. He walked down the hall to his kitchen to get something to drink when he heard a knock on his sliding door; which was odd, Stiles dropped the glass and ran to the door.

Catching sight of Jethro his heart eased, he slid the door open, "Jethro don't scare me like that," Stiles said as he bent down towards him. Jethro smiled in sympathy, "Daddy, I painted" the boy giggled.

Stiles almost jumped out of his skin when he saw the dark figure behind his child. "Holy god!" Stiles grabbed Jethro as quickly as he could and stood up. The man was a few inches taller and covered in sheer muscle. Stiles debated the odds and determined that he couldn't fight him.

"Uh, hi uh, wha-What can I-" Stiles studied the man's face. He had a deep scowl and he seemed broody; he could be a serial killer. "I, uh, what can I help you with?" Stiles managed to choke out.

"I painted, Daddy, it was-" Stiles stopped his son from talking by looking over his shoulder and patting his head. The man in his backyard was like a stone, he raised an eyebrow at Stiles, "Daddy listen!" Jethro tugged his father's hand and pulled him past the large man. "Jethro I need to-"

What was Stiles' life?

He stared at a brightly painted Camaro. The bright colors of yellow, and red clashed with the black paint of the car.

The car was originally black but since Jethro had gotten his hands on it. "Shit," Stiles muffled his curse with his hand as he stared at the pictures of stick figures and what seemed to be dinosaurs. He found it hard not to laugh. He wanted to laugh but he bit this lip. Stiles then turned to his side and bumped into the larger man, "Oww," he pushed himself a step back. Was he made from stone; Stiles rubbed his nose.

Stiles stared up at the man, whose scowl and anger seemed to be dripping from him "I will pay for that mistake; I didn't tell him he couldn-"

"It was scawy black, so I added color!" Jethro joyfully smiled in-between the two adults. Stiles stared down at him "Bud, you—I don't even know what I should tell you. You weren't supposed to do that, it was-"

"It's fine,"

Stiles quickly looked at the older man, "Don't tell him that, he'll just do it again," Stiles tried to whisper, Jethro slipped past his father's grip, "Jethro!" Stiles called out semi-reaching for him.

"He's young, he didn't know any better,"

"I'll pay to get it cleaned, I should've-"

"It's fine," The man's voice was soothing and slightly deep. "It was bound to happen, being that there isn't a fence there," He looked at his car, Stiles was embarrassed, how could his child do this to him? It was quiet and uncomfortable, Stiles shifted from foot to foot as he stared down at his feet. Stiles shoved his hands deep within his pockets and sighed quietly. It was taking him every fiber of his being not to start laughing at his child's diaster.

"Derek," He said,

"What?" Stiles looked up at him, "My names Derek," He said again. Stiles wasn't sure if he should smile or cringe. He settled for holding out his hand, "Stiles"

"What kind of name is Stiles?" Derek took his hand and shook it with what seemed like a smirk, "It's my kind of name," Stiles laughed. They let go of each other's hands and stared at one another. "Are you sure you don't want me to-"

"No, it's fine," Derek waved him and began to walk off. "Had to get the damn thing washed anyway,"

Stiles watched him as he waved him off, his wide muscle bound shoulders slightly slouched forward; his legs swaying gently as he stomped off. His ass, which is Stiles may say is-

No, no, the man wasn't even gay. Stiles can't assume things. "Because I'll make an ass of you and me," Stiles mumbled as he headed back towards his own house. Once he closed the door and locked it he searched the kitchen and the living room for his child. "Jethro," Stiles called.

His son hid behind the wall that lead to the hallway, he was holding it as he slightly peaked out. "Why did you paint his car?"

"I had plan," Jethro whispered, "Is working," he stepped out from the wall and stood in Stiles line of sight. The boy was looking down at his hands as he tangled his fingers together playfully. Stiles let out an exaggerated sigh and bent down "Come here," He called.

Jethro looked up at his father and ran to him, almost pushing Stiles to the floor as he hugged the man. Stiles couldn't be mad at his child. Even with the small meeting, Stiles felt his heart quicken. "'S wokin'!" Jethro beamed happly.


	5. Chapter 5

- _Erica was sat peacefully next to Stiles on his living room couch. She cooed the small baby in Stiles arms. She was pressed against Stiles sides as she wiggled a finger in the baby's face. Stiles eyes were heavy and tired; he hadn't slept in almost forty-two hours. Jethro was restless and fussy all the time. Stiles didn't understand why._

_What had he done to deserve this?_

_"Made he's just always hungry," Erica whispered, but she was extremely quiet, as to not to wake the baby. "Stiles I really do think-"_

_"Erica, no. Jethro is normal," Stiles' eyes shut, "Just because I found him in an alley way next Deaton's office doesn't mean anything. I refuse to believe otherwise,"_

_Erica pulled away from Stiles "Would you continue to love him?" her eyebrows creased, her face was pinched in anger. Stiles flashed a look at her, a pointed one and shifted himself so he'd be facing her. _

_"Did you—Did you really ask me that? Erica I—Ugh, Erica I picked him up, I could have just walked right past him and just left him there. I knew what I was getting into when I brought him home—"_

_"Stiles that's not what I meant."_

_"What did you mean?" Stiles narrowed his eyes at her and waited as she averted her eyes. She searched the room and looking everywhere but Stiles. The silence was deafening and Erica didn't seem like she wanted to speak at all. She almost looked like a kicked puppy._

_"Erica, I know what you meant, it's just—I didn't like the way it sounded. I didn't like that you would assume that I would just—Ugh," Stiles sighed, his head hurt like a bitch. There was way too much thinking involved with just putting Jethro down for a nap. Besides holding Jethro for hours and hours, it was the constant nagging he had to deal with his Editor._

_He didn't have to deal with Erica's assumptions. "I'm sorry Stiles, I know you're tired and you—Let's face it Stiles, you look like shit,"_

_"Hush, you" Stiles pinched his face as he shook his head. "There's still a child in the room,"_

_Erica laughed and stood up, "Just- Just keep in mind that he might just be -"_

~ Stiles was in the kitchen cleaning, listening to his son mumble to his teddy bear as he eat cereal. Stiles didn't realize his son had been calling him.

"Daddy," Jethro called, his voice was low and had a hint of concern "Daddy, you smell _weird,_" Stiles dried his hands and sighed. He walked to Jethro and sat in front of him, "Jethro," Stiles reached for his little hands and held them lazily. "What does Daddy smell like?"

"Sad, confoseded," Stiles had to bite the inside of his cheek just so he wouldn't smile at his son attempt at the word _confused_. "Do you know why you can smell that?"

Jethro tilted his head slightly and his eyebrows rose with the slight tension that filled the room. Stiles watched him carefully and waited. He didn't want to rush him to answer, Jethro was a smart boy, even for his age.

"Ewica-" He started "Ewica says that I'm like her," his fingers wrapped tightly around stiles fingers. Stiles felt his body become heavy and the weight of the world was just crashing.

"Daddy?" Jethro's grip loosened and he pulled away from Stiles hands and tugged Lance-Lot and shoved him at Stiles. "Here," He smiled "Lan-lot good at listenin',"

Stiles lips curled up into a welcomed smile, he held the teddy bear in his hands "What else has Erica told you?" Stiles asked as he set the teddy bear on his lap.

"I's diffent, ouder kids not like me," Jethro looked away sheepishly, "But . . . Thas okay," Jethro smiled up at Stiles, his arms spreading wide and his cheerful grin just became increasingly wider. Stiles laughed and shook his head, "That's defiantly okay,"

Jethro jumped into Stiles arms and held his father close. There was a quiet and low rumble of affection that vibrated off Jethro's small body. All the contact, (Stiles learned from Scott) was scenting. Erica had done it once when Stiles was upset that Lydia for the thousandths time rejected him. Scott was always doing it.

Jethro rubbed his cheek against his father's in a happy hum. "Alright, alright," Stiles laughed.

"The door Daddy," Jethro loosened his grip, Stiles nodded and hoisted him up as he stood up. Sure enough as Stiles got to the door there was a knock. "Good call," Stiles smiled at his boy. Jethro smacked a hand gently on Stiles cheek "Duh," he shook his head.

Stiles laughed and opened the door. And who other then the two he's known from high school would be standing at his door step.

"Jethro! Buddy!" Scott exclaimed happily. Jethro gave a joy filled squeal and did grabby hands towards Scott, "It's because you smell like Family," Stiles explained as he handed Jethro to Scott, "Is that right Jethro?" Scott took the boy and looked at him, pretending to be puzzled.

"Uncle Tot, smells like famie," Jethro wrapped his arms around Scott's neck and pressed his cheek to Scott's neck.

Scott gave Stiles a confused look, "He's learned to scent?"

"He learns quick," Erica pushed past them and waltz in. Scott and Stiles followed thereafter. Erica went into the kitchen and reached for the whiskey Stiles kept on top of the fridge (Out of reach of children, especially grabby hands children that don't have limits to what they want to take in here hands—Jethro)

"I don't know which one of you taught him, but you will pay severely," Stiles pointed a finger at both Scott and Erica. Scott took his place next to Jethro's booster chair, "Wasn't me," Scott humored. Erica rolled her eyes, "I told you he wasn't human,"

"Shut up," Stiles rolled his eyes "I was—I was just not willing to-"

"You were in denial, Dude,"

"Thanks, Scott you're a real pal," Stiles finds his way to the table and sits across Scott and his son. "What's with the visit; and the home invasion, and the stealing of my booze and child?"

"Remember when I said I was visiting a friend?" Erica winced

"The Yoker?" Stiles raised his eyebrows

"Yeah, the—Don't call him that,"

"I have nothing to be ashamed of, I've never met him so—go on," Stiles laughed

"Well, he's you're neighbor" Erica's words felt like knives against Stiles skin. Jethro looked over as Stiles still and stared at the half empty bowl of cereal. "He's diffent too, Daddy," Jethro was too happily admitting. Stiles takes a glance from Erica to Scott, then to Jethro.

"Rule, I need to set rules, for all three of you," Stiles rubbed his eyes with one hand. "What? Stiles we aren-"

"Rule one!" Stiles stated to loudly, causing Jethro to wince and flinch into Scott's chest. "When you meet someone _different_, Jethro, You tell Daddy," Stiles point his finger at Jethro, his voice stern and certain. Jethro just nods his head.

"Is this guy a-" Stiles paused, not sure he wanted to say the word while his son was wake and listening intently. "A werewolf?" Stiles said flatly.

Erica and Scott shared a look, "Yeah, He's—Well he's the alpha," Scott patted Jethro's back, as to sooth the child. Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose. "You should see how Jethro introduced us." Scott looked down at the small child in his arms.

"I made paint! Scawy car and colors," Jethro laughed powerfully. Erica's jaw dropped and Scott was holding in a laugh. "Yeah. Stick figures and dinosaurs." What was Stiles life?


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N; CLIFF HANGER!**_

After Erica and Scott took a peak at the Alpha's car, the returned with looks of sympathy and You're-totally-screwed-but-that's-just-too-funny. Stiles sighed as he shook his of the looks he was getting. It was quiet for a moment. Which wasn't as stressful as having to deal with the issues at hand; being his three year old was a werewolf and he refused to believe it, and said werepup took it upon himself to _decorate _another werewolves care.

Great. Life was peachy.

"It could be worse," Scott shrugged as he set Jethro down, he ran to me and tugged on the hem of the shirt. Stiles shot him a disbelieving look with the jerking of his hands outward slightly.

"How?"

"Derek is here to meet . . ."

"No," I said before Erica could finish. "Today was as close as he will ever be to Jethro," Stiles sighed as she lifted his child and sat him on his lap.

"Wait Derek's alrea-"

"Daddy, Dewek no bad, just," Jethro lifted his shoulders like Frankenstein and held out his arms and made finger versions of claws, "Rawr, Rawr," Jethro even tried to look Stoic and scowly.

Stiles watched his child with awe and amusement, he laughed as did Erica and Scott. "That's a great impression, Jethro,"

"Don't encourage this," Stiles tried to hide his laughter. "Stiles it's fine, you said he's never going to see him anyway, let him have his fun," Scott argued sounding very amused. Stiles sighed in agreement. "You didn't tell him I knew, did you?" Stiles raised an eyebrow.

Scott opened his mouth but it seemed like he had difficultly forming the words. Erica grunted loudly, "Yes, we told him you knew, you just- Didn't know about Jethro," Erica stared down at her empty glass. Stiles body stilled, even his child turned to see if he was okay.

"What exactly did you tell him?" Stiles glared at both of them "My whole fu—Fudgin' story?" Stiles knew he didn't sound as threatening as he changed the word. His kid was still in the room, and awake. Scott bit back a laugh and looked at Erica. She pulled off Jethro's buster seat and held the glass tightly as she took a seat.

"You can't even get drunk," Stiles pointed out, "Just stealing my booze,"

"Shut it Stilinski," Erica twisted her face in horrible attempt to make an angry face. "We told him that Scott told you, that Scott's the reason you know,"

Stiles sighed, he believed them, but they always say things that shouldn't be said when they are under pressure. And this Alpha—Derek, he's and Stiles quotes '_Rawr, rawr._'

"What's the plan?" Stiles asked, he wasn't new to the whole 'we-need-too-save-Beacon-Hills-from-the-supernatur al, ' he's had to do that throughout his last two years of high school. Stiles now had Jethro to think about. He couldn't drop everything like he used to. His child needed him, and he needed Jethro.

"Derek wants to formally meet Jethro, as an Alpha," Erica sounds concerned, and as she should, Stiles was glaring daggers at her head. "What do you mean as an Alpha?"

"Well," She looked over to her left where Scott sat, Scott nodded. "He wants to train Jethro as his own, Y'know, part of-"

"Like hell he is,"

"Daddy," Jethro looked up at Stiles with a look of worry, "Sorry Jethro," Stiles covers his child's ears and continues.

"No, Hell- I repeat, Hell to the no," Stiles removes his hands from Jethro's ears, "I won' say 'em Daddy," He reassures Stiles; he smiles in response. "And neither of you wanted to tell me this? What is wrong with you? He's my boy, my son-"

"Stiles, he's a werewolf, he was born a werewolf, he isn't biologically yours," Erica's voice was icy and sharp while her expression was that of concern. Stiles felt his skin run cold, and his heart stop. Who was Erica to tell him that Jethro wasn't his? Jethro was his, and that was final.

"Say that again in front of _my son_, and I will personally shoot you with a wolf's bane bullet," Stiles narrowed his eyes, "Because I still have them, and I can always find more,"

Erica took the threat and leaned away from the table, "Stiles, Erica just wants you to really think about what's best for him,"

"And you don't think _I _think about that all the time, Scott?" Stiles turns his focus, "You don't think I spent the last three years being scared of what will happen to him if he really was a-"

"Daddy, I wanna watch TV," Jethro could feel the angry raise in Stiles, and he set a little hand on his father's as comfort. "Don' be angry," he smiled and hopped off his father's lap and waltzed off into the living room. Stiles watched him until he was perched on the couch.

Stiles turned his attention back to his friends. "He's my baby, don't force me to protect him against his only connect to the supernatural,"

Scott and Erica lowered their heads, "I want him to be just as normal as you both are," Stiles gestured towards them. "He hasn't tried to shift, all I've ever really seen were fangs, but those weren't like- big and could be contained within his mouth."

Stiles shook his head in disbelief. His friends are turning on him- uh, well not really _turning_, but turning. Then there was a knock at his door. "No warning Jethro?" Stiles called as he saw his by slid off the couch and go to the door with a delighted hum. Stiles looked back at his friends, their eyes a golden color

"Hey, whoa. What's with the freaky wolf ey-"

"Daddy,"

Stiles glances at his son; Jethro was in the arms for Derek. Stiles stood up faster than his own mind could think.

"Set. My. Child. Down." Stiles couldn't see anything else, he couldn't even feel the hands on his shoulder or the words that were mumbled beside him. Derek held Jethro and Stiles wasn't okay with that. Not that he knows what he wants from him.

"Dewek, Daddy no scawy. He juss wan' Jefro safe," Jethro smiled as he pushed off Derek's chest. Derek smiled at him and set him down. "I don't want your son. I just want to make sure he won't be a danger," Derek's scowl was back, did that man just hate Stiles—was that it? Jethro waddled over to Stiles and made grabby hands up at him. Stiles lifted him and rested him on his hip.

"He's three. He hasn't been outside of the house—unless I need to go to the store, and I won't deprive him of human interaction,"

"I don't want you to,"

"Then?"

"I am more intere-" Derek paused and looked at Erica and Scott, "Made me the bad guy, You two are going to go through some rough training," Derek nodded his head towards the door. They took it and left, their heads low. Once Derek was sure they were gone he took a step towards Stiles and he took a step back.

"What they- I'm not here to take him"

"What do you want?"

"You,"


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles was in his throat, pounding uncomfortably loud. He was sure Derek could hear it, Jethro set his hand on his father's chest and whimpered, "Daddy?" Jethro called in a twisted concerned voice. Derek stared through Stiles, his eyes flashing a deep ruby then back to their beautiful hazel. Stiles knew he couldn't run, wolves love to chase.

He learned that the hard way. Scott on a full moon, it wasn't a pretty sight. Stiles could feel the stare intensify, his heart just didn't want to settle, even though he's spent years training to keep his heart under control when he's in—well such situations.

"Daddy, Dewek nice," Jethro nuzzled within the crook of Stiles neck. Stiles kept his eyes focused on Derek as he pressed his cheek to his son's head.

"I—I'm not, I don't even know how I want to think—I'm not . . Ugh," Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "I don't know your intentions, What Erica and Scott-"

"Mislead you," Derek took another step toward them, "I won't take him from you, I can smell the protection and the love that's just-" He paused, he was pondering something.

"You could suffocate something with the smell that surrounds you," Derek shoved his hands into his black trench coats pockets. Stiles raised an eyebrow, He was lost—like he usually is, this time was different.

"My scent?"

"Yes," Derek shrugged. Stiles sighed and looked at his boy, "Jethro,"

Jethro looked up from his father's neck and smiled. Stiles kissed his head and set him down. Jethro ran off into the living room, yet again; leaving Derek and Stiles alone.

"Have a seat," Stiles sighed again as she took his seat. Derek nodded and took a seat. Stiles rubbed his eyes, "What- What did you mean?"

"About?" Derek set his forearms on the table as he leaned forward, Stiles leaned back, "About, uh, the whole, '_you_' thing that you pulled just now," Stiles watched Derek wryly

"Oh."

"Yeah, _oh. _Start explaining big guy," Stiles gestured out towards him. Derek avoided Stiles eyes and huffed silently to himself. What was this guys problem?

"I—I used to live here," Derek started "I watched over him after he was turned, Lacrosse games and all," Derek held to his own hands. "I, _noticed_ you with him a lot," Derek almost whispered the sentence.

"Yeah, uh this isn't creepy at all, I mean seriously?"

"I couldn't interfere with his life," Derek shot a pointed look at him. Stiles leaned forward and stared right back, "And you couldn't help us with the supernatural terrors?" Stiles hissed. "Obviously you're older and have more knowledge about it, but c'mon, that was a lot of research on my part," Stiles squinted.

Derek's lips threatened a smile, he shook his head, "You guys handled it fine," he almost chuckled, he seemed to be coming around. "Uh, no dude, I was up all night and I had to lie to my dad like, 24/7," Stiles tossed his arms in the air and leaned back in his chair.

"Gran-pa?" Jethro called from the living room, "No, not today Jethro, maybe Sunday," Stiles glanced over, Jethro nodded and turned his attention back to the TV.

"Does he know?"

"My dad, oh yeah. I had to explain Jethro's sudden need to howl and freak out on the full moon," Stles said sarcastically, Derek raised a confused eyebrow, "Alright, sarcasm isn't your thing. My dad knows, because Scott told him," Stiles sighed. Derek watched him, studied him.

"Stiles, I- I'm here because of you," He glances down at his hands then back up to meet Stiles whiskey light eyes.

Stiles gave a crooked half smile and huffed as he leaned back towards Derek, "Your intentions?"

"What?"

"Your intention, man. What is it that you want?"

"You, Stiles, I want you."

Stiles eye's widened slightly; he could feel the flush work its way to his cheeks. "Wh- h- you don't even-"

"I don't need to know you, last time I check we were both adults," Derek thought for a moment, "I'm thinking I might actually be the only adult here,"

"Hey!" Stiles narrowed his eyes, "I'm very adult-like, thank you very much," Stiles grunted harshly. Then in that moment Stiles saw the man smile, a wide toothy grin. It was intoxicating. Stiles face relaxed,

"That's the scent,"

"What?"

"Your scent," Derek's smile remained. "And that would be what? If you don't mind elaborating," Stiles raised an eyebrow. Derek shook his head with a chuckle, "Something that would have to do with sweet red apples, or fresh honey from a bee hive."

"Is that supposed to be some little red-"

"Yes, Little red riding hood," Derek's eyes were ruby red and bore into Stiles whiskey eyes, "And I want you."


	8. Chapter 8

"You're insane, really you are, and as far as I know, your sister should be the Alpha since she is your older sister?" Stiles raised an eyebrow as he patted his hands on the table. "If you're siblings that means she should be the Alpha, so why do you have the-"

"Laura has her own pack," Derek's eyes shifted to Stiles hands, "I, I left home when she became Alpha, I wasn't there to take the connection to her as my Alpha," Derek explained. Stiles watched as Derek's shoulders raise and fall with each breath. "I'm not-"

Derek stood up abruptly, Stiles startled back in his seat "I'm not good with words," Derek paced the kitchen floor, "Uh, okay, Derek, you've got to learn a better way to communicate," Stiles shook his head dismissively, "Seriously , man. I'm hanging on threads here, I have no clue what you're trying to say," Stiles laughed.

Derek's eyes ghosted over Stiles face, almost like he wanted to memorize his every feature. Stiles stared back, not a word was said.

"Daddy, Dewek mate,"

Stiles eyes widened; Stile knew every well what Mates were. He'd asked Deaton in case Jethro was a werewolf or acting ridiculously around girls or . . . Guys. He never knew what was safe and what was not. Stiles knew very well what a Mate was for a werewolf.

A force undetermined by gender, a feeling you can't fight, a scent you erase, a memory you don't have but you want so bad you'd kill.

Stiles slowly turned his wide eyed gaze back to Derek. His face a slight shade of pink—

"I've seen you in dreams, and I don't dream," Derek shrugged his shoulders into a slump, "I inhabit your feelings and emotions, like right now," Derek had his hands hidden in his pockets. "You're scared, worried, though your expressions are very readable,"

Jethro walked back into the kitchen, "I don't mind a papa, Daddy," Jethro stood by Derek.

Stiles was suddenly aware of how much Jethro looked of the older man. Dark hair, pale hazel eyes, tan skin, Jethro didn't look like Stiles, he was less of the child he remembered this morning. His son was a werewolf, there were things that Stiles didn't know, things Stiles couldn't teach him. Things Derek could teach him.

Though Jethro never bother Stiles about a second father or a mother, he figured it was because of the imprint he made when Stiles first held the boy. Jethro worded and expressed everything Stiles refused too, why would he chance his only real child, why would he risk what he—Because he loves Jethro, Stiles wants what's best for him.

"You live next door, you stay there, please don't talk to Jethro unless I'm around. Derek, I don't know you, I don't feel all the comfortable right now with you—so just let me become comfortable," Stiles bent down and held his arms out for his child. _His child_.

Jethro smiled and waddled over to him and wrapped his arms his father's neck, scenting him, "I love you Daddy," Jethro whispered, he was done with the baby talk, Stiles sighed into a smile, "He's _my _child, Derek, I don't care what anyone says. I raised him, I didn't spend those sleepless nights wondering _if _I did. Jethro is _mine,_" Stiles glared up at Derek.

The older man stood proud and nodded at them, "I understand," Derek bent down to meet them at eye level, "More than you know,"


	9. Chapter 9

- "I won't tell you how or why, Stiles," Deaton said, "Jethro is very much a werewolf," Stiles didn't want to believe it. He loved Jethro, he loved him with all his being. So what was he to do with a were-child? There couldn't be a real difference between normal children and a werewolf. There couldn't be.

In fact there wasn't. Expect that fact that Stiles had to understand the shifting. Jethro was normal. He was healthy and vibrant, and very talkative. Stiles would deny knowing Jethro was a werewolf because he didn't want his werebudies to hackle Jethro with things he didn't need to know yet.

"Daddy, Daddy,"

Stiles felt little hands on his face, "Daaaaaadddyy," Jethro was trying to wake him up. Stiles wrapped his arms around the boys small waist. "Daddy, wake up, Dadd-" Jethro was pushing his palms at Stiles face, trying to wake him. Stiles laughed and released the boy.

"I'm up, I'm up," Stiles rubbed his eyes as he sat up.

"Daddy, Auntie Erica says I'm different," Jethro's voice was sweet as always, Stiles eyes searched Jethro; his eyes shimmering in the dim morning light that peaked through the shades.

"You're Jethro, and that's not different for Jethro," Stiles finally says, "What did Auntie say?"

Jethro ruffles his hair as he makes a thinking face, where he looks at the ceiling like it's the greatest looking thing in the world.

"She said, I was different, that's why I didn't go to school,"

Stiles bit his inner cheek. He was to grill Erica about that later. Stiles sighed and picked his child up and sat him on his lap. "Jethro, you aren't different,"

"No?" Jethro questions,

"No, you're special,"

"Do you still love me?" Stiles silently chokes on the lump that formed in his throat, Erica needed to butt the hell out of Stiles' raising. Seriously. Stiles stared down at Jethro, his eyes wide and questioning.

"I will always love you, Jethro, don't ever ask me if I do. Because I will never stop loving you,"

J ethro giggled and wrapped his arms around Stiles. More scenting. Beautiful.

"Stiles?" Scott waves a hand in his face, "Earth to Stiles," he says. Stiles blinks and realizes he's spaced out as he as working on his writing.

"What?" Stiles asked dazedly. Scott grunts and rolls his eyes as he sits back down on the couch.

"Yesterday? How'd that blow over?"

Stiles lip curls unnaturally at the thought of Derek's sudden confession, Though he wanted it all to be a bad dream, it wasn't, "It was . . . Different," Stiles said, "The man shows up and all of a sudden he's in love with me, and he wants my kid,"

"Stiles I told you, he doesn't want Jethro,"

"Speaking of," Stiles gets off his chair and walks to the kitchen "Where is he?" Stiles couldn't see him in the kitchen—slight panic—Stiles jogged down the hall to look in the play room, he wasn't there he turned around into the laundry room, wasn't there—increasing panic—"Jethro?" Stiles calls, "Jethro answer me when I call," Stiles heads up stairs two steps at a time.

He opens Jethro's bedroom door, not there either. Stiles runs to his bedroom and pushes the door open, not there—extreme panic—Stiles is hyperventilating by the time he makes it back downstairs Scott is standing in the living room looking as Scott does.

"Where the hell is my son?" Stiles tries to shout. "Scott! Where's my son!" Stiles yells, he runs to his sliding glass door and heads to the back yard, "Jethro!" Stiles yells, "Jethro!"

Jethro isn't answering and Stiles is panicking. Then it hits Stiles like a hit to the stomach, "Derek," He groans. Stiles runs across the lawns and jumps onto Derek's back porch and knocks loudly on his back door.

Jethro is the one who answers the door. Stiles falls to his knees and takes his boy in his arms. Stiles leaves with Jethro in his arms. Stiles doesn't need answers, he doesn't want answers. Jethro is resting his cheek on Stiles shoulder and breathing with rhythm as he is trying to get Stiles to do. Stiles gets inside and locks his back door.

Stiles waves Scott off and heads upstairs to his bedroom. He sets Jethro down on the foot of the bed and kneels in front of him.

Jethro has his hand on his own lap and he stares down at his father who is trying to breath correctly. "Are you mad at me, Daddy?" Jethro asks.

Stiles checks the boy over, ghosting his hands over every inch of Jethro; his arms, legs, torso, feet, hands, face, ears. Everything.

"Don't ever leave the house without telling me, Jethro," Stiles cups his hands on Jethro's cheeks. "I don't care what Auntie Erica or Uncle Scott say," Stiles touches their foreheads together, "You don't leave my sight, okay?"

Jethro whines and nods, he can feel Stiles' pain, he can feel how scared Stiles was. Stiles sighs, and pulls away to look at his son.

"What were you doing in Derek's home?"


End file.
